


The One Where Bro Bids Dave Good-Bye

by eighth_chiharu



Series: The One Where Dave's a Vampire [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Blood Drinking, Explicit Sexual Content, Incest, M/M, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-11
Updated: 2016-07-11
Packaged: 2018-07-22 21:05:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7453938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eighth_chiharu/pseuds/eighth_chiharu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave is going to the Americas. Bro sees him off the only way he knows how.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The One Where Bro Bids Dave Good-Bye

Dave makes a tick next to the ‘live goats’ item on his parchment paper, the greasy lead pencil smearing slightly. He slides the pencil behind his ear and wipes his hand on his black breeches before turning toward his three trunks to verify that the rest of his supplies are in order. He’s just checking the strength of the iron locks when Bro’s voice rolls in like warm summer thunder.

“So you’re really going, then? To the Colonies? Truly?”

Dave spins, and if he had a heart, it would be racing. Bro smiles, the cruel edges unblunted by the ninety years that’s passed. He still looks every bit the eldest son, his head up, his tricorn cocked low on his forehead, his long blond hair pulled back in a fashionable red ribbon, his breeches so tight that Dave can make out the lines of his thighs. He wishes, not for the first time, that the protections on the dwellings of the living extended to those of the dead.

“I am going,” he says when he finds his voice. He’s grateful for a lack of a pulse. It helps maintain a composure he doesn’t feel. “They’re going, so I’m going. It’s not complicated. What are you doing here?”

Bro makes that derisive sound he’s so fond of, the one that sounds like breaking wind. He strolls into the small basement room, shutting the door behind him, running his fingers over everything within his reach, trunks and baskets and bottles alike. “You’re as stupid as you were last time I saw you. You ever been to sea before, Dave? Hurts like a bitch. You know our kind don’t like moving water.”

“I’m aware,” Dave answers, moving back so that Bro doesn’t brush him as he walks by. “It doesn’t matter. They need my help. They’re family.”

Bro raps on the lid of the trunk, then slams it shut with a bang and pats it. “Sturdy. Won’t do you no good. Don’t think you’ll be able to stand if for long. Burst outta this box and devour half the ship before the catch you.” He glances at Dave. “Bye-bye to family.”

“I have supplies.” It’s sharper than he meant, and also more than he would ever wish to reveal to his brother, even three hundred years after they parted ways. “Why are you here?”

“Like I said. It’s time to say good-bye to family.” He leaves the trunk, crossing back over to Dave, his very presence suffocating, pressing air Dave no longer requires forcibly from his chest. He stops just in front of Dave, the tips of their Hessian boots touching, looking down at him, his eyes glinting orange in the candlelight. “Well?”

Dave can’t draw back any farther than he already is. His room is small; it’s all he can afford. There’s no space to avoid Bro if Bro wants to be close. “Well what?”

Bro plucks the pencil from behind Dave’s ear and tosses it across the room. It clatters into a corner. “Give us a kiss, since we ain’t gonna see you anymore.”

Dave stares, his nonliving heart trying to jump. He hadn’t thought of that. Moving across the ocean to follow Martin Strider and his new bride meant many things, but not a lack of Bro. Bro’s torments are a constant. There is no ‘without Bro’, there never was. Except now it’s a fact. Bro isn’t going to follow Dave anymore. Dave won’t have anyone who knows him.

“… oh,” he says faintly. Then, stronger, “Oh. I… I guess that’s … all right.”

He bobs up and kisses Bro on the cheek. The skin is warm, dry with powder. Bro’s fed recently, probably on his way here. Dave plans to eat right before he boards the ship; the knowledge that Bro isn’t hungry somehow makes Dave’s hunger sharper.

Bro doesn’t move or back up. He raises one eyebrow. “That’s it?”

Dave would blush, but he doesn’t have any blood to spare. “That’s it. What else do you want? I don’t have any worldly goods to leave you. You have more than I do, anyhow –“

“It takes two months to cross the ocean,” Bro says. “You’ll be in that box for two months, not talkin’ to anyone, not touchin’ anything. Just you and your…” He glances at the paper still in Dave’s hand. “… goats. You ready for that?”

“Yes,” Dave bristles, dropping the paper, tossing it toward the small nearby table. “I’m going, you can’t scare me out of it.”

Bro shrugs. “Not tryin’ to scare ya, little man. It ain’t like you haven’t been alone all this time. You’re used to it, you’re an old hand at it. Bein’ alone.” He watches Dave, gaze more intense than before. “Right?”

Dave can’t tell if he’s being insulted or not. He shrugs back. “Yes. Certainly.”

“Alone forever. Almost romantic.” Bro steps in, closing the few centimeters between them. “ ‘Cept for the ‘alone’ part.” He lowers his head until his lips are against Dave’s ear, murmuring. “You sure you wanna go off to the Americas without one more more chance at touchin’ someone who ain’t afraid of ya?”

“What?” comes out of Dave before he can stop it, and also before he can stop Bro. His older brother’s mouth is on his, heated and demanding, his tongue forcing its way against Dave’s, the coppery tang of blood still lingering on his lips. His hat bumps against Dave’s head then disappears, a soft thump confirming it’s fallen off. Dave grunts in panic and plants his hands against Bro’s chest, grabbing at his waistcoat, his cravat, anything to get a purchase and shove him away.

Bro pulls off, licks his lips. His hands are locked in Dave’s shirtsleeves, both of them holding onto each other more tightly than Dave’s held onto anything except his descendants. There’s no noise besides the late-night clop of hooves on cobblestones, carriages wending their way back to someone’s home. The rats make hardly any scrabbling sounds in the walls, already settling in for their short slumber. There’s no-one Dave could call for help.

They’re alone. He’s alone.

Bro is warm, almost like he’s alive. He’s the warmest thing in the whole room.

“Last chance, Davey,” Bro whispers. “Last chance.”

Bro’s words strike a deep, deep chord. The years of immortality that lay before Dave suddenly spin out in a never-ending pinwheel of black solitude. Last chance. He’ll never share his life with anyone ever again; never know the intimacy and security that comes with someone else knowing him. Really knowing him.

He hasn’t succumbed to this despair since he first left his mother and sisters. He doesn’t want to feel it now.

He doesn’t want to be alone without even memories to look back on.

There’s too many thoughts – about how this is wrong, how this is bad, how Bro is cruel and evil, how Dave shouldn’t crave warmth and closeness – and Dave dismisses them all. The want – the need – is too strong. He can’t be alone, not without something.

With a sudden jerk, he yanks Bro down and kisses him fiercely, hungrily. His tongue fights its way between Bro’s lips, seeks out the heat and the blood. Bro’s hand drops to Dave’s buttocks, squeezes them hard, kneading them as if they were his to do as he wished. The other goes to Dave’s breeches, unbuttons them swiftly, even as their kissing turns rough, almost desperate.

Bro bites Dave’s lip, breaking the skin, and pulls away. “Ain’t fed, can taste it. Can’t get It up if y’ain’t fed, Davey.”

“Shut up,” Dave groans, and pulls at Bro’s waistcoat again, then his breeches. “Doesn’t matter, I don’t care, you fed, you can do it.”

“Idiot,” Bro says, and it’s so neutral it might be affectionate. “This’s supposed to be a mutual farewell, don’tcha know anythin’? C’mere.” He nudges his thigh between Dave’s legs, rubbing against the softness there, and tugs at the knot of his own white neckcloth.

Dave moans into Bro’s mouth, the arousal familiar and taunting, frustratingly out of his reach. “No, don’t, you’re the idiot. It won’t work.”

“Ain’t been even an hour.” The neckcloth slips free, the knot unravelling as fast as Dave, and Bro lets it fall to the floor. “Hurry up and it’ll do the trick.” He drags Dave even closer, their hips touching, Bro’s unmistakable length rigid within his cotton drawers.

Dave groans at the feel of it, at the heat against his body. Another wave of need chases the pangs of desire through him, and Bro’s hand slides into the cleft of Dave’s ass, clever fingers searching out Dave’s tight opening. Head spinning with want, Dave stares at Bro’s neck. There’s no pulse, but he can smell the blood beneath the skin, the faint scent that says there’s life that’s not been absorbed quite yet.

Bro cups the back of Dave’s head, pushing Dave closer to Bro’s throat, and grinds against Dave’s pelvis.

Dave gasps, an old habit he can never break. He almost chokes on his own voice, and strikes in the next instant, needle-sharp canines piercing Bro’s flesh, releasing the new blood that still flows through old veins. It spills into Dave’s mouth like ambrosia, like a blessing, but weakened, muted.

It’s enough.

Dave’s cock is suddenly stiff, engorging so quickly that it drags another moan out of him. Bro chuckles and tugs Dave’s breeches down, then his own. He takes both their pricks into his big, warm hand, stroking them, squeezing them harshly. It feels amazing, and Dave forgets to suckle at the little wound on Bro’s neck.

“C’mon, then,” Bro says, his voice peppered with distracted hitches, “get up on it. Ain’t got much time before the tide.” And suddenly both his hands are beneath Dave’s ass. He hauls Dave up, slams him against the wall, and shoves his prick up Dave’s opening with one sharp thrust.

Dave cries out, and latches onto the bite marks on Bro’s throat, but they’ve run dry. He mewls at the lack of blood, grabs at Bro’s coat. “Too soon – oh, God, no, go harder!”

Bro does, he moves quick and sure, hammering into Dave, taking his pleasure in short strings of cussing. “Fuck, Davey, ya tight-arsed bitch, we shoulda done this sooner. You’re fuckin’ sweet, little man, so sweet –!”

It’s too much that Bro is stronger than Dave. It’s heavenly and hellish and just the thought of all that strength makes Dave nearly orgasm right there. But not yet, not if this is the last time before forever. He tightens up, holds it back and pulls his own shirt open. “Do me,” he begs as Bro drives into him repeatedly, bouncing him against the plastered brick wall, scraping up Dave’s lower back. “Me, too. Bite me, mark me!”

Bro smirks. “Thought ya’d never ask.” He bites Dave once on his shoulder, teeth stabbing, almost tearing.

Dave groans at the sharp, painful pleasure of it, and at the burning heat of Bro’s cock filling him up, stretching him wide. His prick bounces between him and Bro, is rubbed against Bro’s silk waistcoat, the friction intoxicating, infuriating. Dave can’t stand it, it’s too good, too much. He whines under his breath, ready to plead for release before he explodes.

Bro doesn’t need words. He hefts Dave with another strong thrust, pummeling Dave so deep it would hurt anyone human, his mouth popping off Dave’s shoulder. There’s no bleeding, no blood to spare, and when Bro clamps down on Dave’s nipple, there’s no blood there either. Just a wound, and pain, and Bro warm against Dave, thick inside him. Emptying his hot, sterile seed into Dave’s depths. 

Dave comes with a shout.


End file.
